Chapter 2

On the stage, Carter raised his champagne glass. The spotlight hit him perfectly, making him look like the king of the world.

"Tonight is not just the fifth-anniversary celebration of Atlas Tech," Carter announced into the microphone, his voice dripping with confidence. "It is also the most important day of my life."

He looked down at the VIP section with deep, calculated affection.

"Tiffany, will you marry me?"

The ballroom erupted into deafening applause.

Wearing a custom Dior gown, Tiffany walked up to the stage like a proud princess, lifting her skirt.

Carter dropped to one knee, pulled out a massive Harry Winston diamond ring, and slipped it onto her finger.

I stood in the dark corner of the hall, holding a glass of warm water I had poured for him because his stomach had been acting up earlier.

A sharp, stabbing pain hit my stomach.

Five years ago, Carter was just a broke college kid who couldn't even pay his rent.

I hid my identity as the Kingswell Group heiress and squeezed into a damp, freezing basement with him.

We had no heating in the winter. My fingers got frostbitten, but I still kept typing on my keyboard to write the very first code for Atlas Tech.

Back then, he held my hands and said, "Stella, when the company goes public, I will give you the grandest wedding in New York."

Now, the company was going public.

But the bride wasn’t me.

At the back exit of the ballroom, Carter blocked me in the hallway.

He handed me a folder.

"Stella, you’re a smart girl. You should understand my situation," he said smoothly.

"The Vance family can bring a hundred million dollars to Atlas Tech. That’s our ticket to securing our Nasdaq listing."

"You’re just an orphan who had to work three part-time jobs just to pay for college. You can’t help me scale this company."

I looked at the "Voluntary Settlement and Non-Disclosure Agreement" in my hands and laughed from sheer anger.

"So, you’re throwing me away like trash?"

Carter frowned, clearly annoyed by my attitude.

"Don't put it so harshly. The agreement states that the apartment in Tribeca is yours, and I'll wire a hundred thousand dollars to your bank account every month."

"As long as you play nice and don't make a scene in front of Tiffany, nothing will change between us. Except for the marriage license."

I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. "SMACK!"

"Carter, you disgust me."

Carter’s head snapped to the side. His expression instantly darkened.

"Stella! Don't push your luck!" he hissed, grabbing my wrist.

"Without me, you’d still be working retail in some sketchy neighborhood! A hundred thousand a month? You couldn’t make that money even if you sold your soul!"

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.

"Did you forget, Carter? The core AI algorithm of Atlas Tech was written by me, and me alone."

I reached into my collar and pulled out a cheap plastic hair clip hanging from a string around my neck.

That was a five-dollar gift he bought me during our first year of starting the company.

"You told me this clip was our promise. You said you’d replace it with a real crown one day."

Carter let out a cruel laugh. He snatched the clip from my neck, threw it onto the marble floor, and crushed it under his shiny leather shoe.

"Cheap trash. It looks pathetic."

"Wake up and face reality, Stella. Your code is valuable, but Tiffany’s hundred million dollars can buy me into high society."

"Tomorrow, hand over the master access codes of the core algorithm to the tech department. Otherwise, you won’t get a single penny."

I stared at him coldly.

"And if I refuse?"

Carter snapped his fingers.

Four massive, burly security guards stepped out from the shadows of the hallway.

"Take Miss Kingswell to the basement archive room so she can cool down. Nobody opens that door without my permission."